


“Here At The End Of All Things”

by ErisandraNoir



Series: A Love Story Between An Angel And A Demon [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Aziraphale understands even when Crowley doesn't say it, Crowley tries his best to Confess his love and slightly fails, End of the World, Fluff, Holding Hands, I Love You, Light Angst, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Other, Romance, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 12:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13189863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisandraNoir/pseuds/ErisandraNoir





	“Here At The End Of All Things”

_Get out your guns, battle's begun._  
 _Are you a saint or a sinner?_  
 _If love's a fight, then I shall die_  
 _With my heart on a trigger._  
  
_They say before you start a war,_  
 _You better know what you're fighting for._  
 _Well, baby, you are all that I adore._  
 _If love is what you need, a soldier I will be._  
  
_I'm an angel with a shotgun,_  
 _Fighting 'til the war's won,_  
 _I don't care if heaven won't take me back._  
 _I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe._  
 _Don't you know you're everything I have?_  
 _And I wanna live, not just survive tonight._  


Aziraphale stood silently beside Crowley, his friend, partner and – dare he says it, and indeed he does – _lover_ (this was probably not supposed to be taken in the romantic sense of the word, at least in Aziraphale’s mind he meant that Crowley was his lover because he _loved_ him. . . as a friend. Though I am quite sure that every individual present at that moment would have raised their eyebrows at Aziraphale before snickering – this may or may not include Crowley who would most probably either blush or stutter). He shifted from one foot to another in a fidgety stance as he allowed his gaze to flit around for a short while amongst the other individuals with them before finally resting on the still standing form of the demon just a hand’s width away from him on his left. Crowley was no longer wearing his black sunglasses, which Aziraphale thought he probably lost, forgot and/or broke during the altercation regarding his beloved Bentley. Thus, his yellow snake-slit eyes seemed to glow in the reflection of the full moon shining above them. In his right hand he held a long metallic tire iron while his other hand clenched and unclenched in an obvious show of nervousness and discomfort.

The ground rumbled and trembled mightily beneath them as the humans around them – namely Newt, Anathema, Adam and the Them, and Sergeant Shadwell – looked confusedly terrified and vice versa, with the exception of Adam who looked calculatingly innocent and Sergeant Shadwell who stood firm and menacing, not allowing fear or nervousness to show in his stance, although Aziraphale could feel that he actually _is_.    

"It feels like a volcano!" shouted Newt. "What is it?"

"Whatever it is, it's pretty angry," said Anathema.

 

Crowley began cursing and Aziraphale laid a hand on his shoulder.

"There are humans here," he said in a soft reproachful tone.

"Yesss," said Crowley hiss in annoyance. _"And_ me. Do you have _any idea_ what _He_ would _do_ if _He_ found out that _I_ – a _demon_ nonethelesssss – wasss thwarting _Hisss plansss_ of dessstroying Earth!?"

 

His diction began to turn slightly snake-like and Aziraphale noticed them to be caused by utter fear.

"I mean, we shouldn't let this happen to them."         

"Well, what-" Crowley began, and stopped.

"I mean, when you think about it, we've got them into enough trouble as it is. You and me. Over the years. What with one thing and another."

"We were only doing our jobs," muttered Crowley.

"Yes. So what? Lots of people in history have only done their jobs and look at the trouble _they_ caused."

 

Crowley paused to look Aziraphale straight in the eye, as if gauging if he had gone batty and lost it.

"You don't mean we should actually try to stop _Him? The Devil himself_? The father of all that is unholy? The serpent of lies? _"_ Crowley reminded him with a pointed look.

“Do those titles ring a bell to you?”

 

Aziraphale smiled cheekily.

“I thought _you_ were the serpent of lies?”

 

Crowley made a pained noise in the back of his throat, one that sounded more like a scared whine than a growl of irritation.

“Why in GO- why in Heave- why in the _world_ would you want to face the Devil!?”

 

Aziraphale paused. He looked thoughtful and then he smiled softly before replying.

“What have you got to lose?”

“What have _we_ got to lose?”

 

Crowley started to argue that he, in fact, had a lot to lose. His life for one. And then it dawned on him that he hadn't anything. That there was nothing he could lose that he hadn't lost already. They couldn't do anything worse to him than what he already had coming to him. He felt free at last.

 

He gripped the tire iron tighter before releasing a breath he did not know he was holding, and he glared at Aziraphale irritatedly, although his mouth was twitching upwards barely able to contain a smile.

 

Aziraphale beamed at him before he picked up the sword lately dropped by War, and hefted its weight thoughtfully.

"Gosh, it's been years since I used this," he murmured.

"Hmmm, yes, about six thousand," said Crowley.

"My word, yes," said the angel. "What a day that was, and no mistake. Good old days."

"Not really," said Crowley. The furious noise coming from beneath the ground was growing louder and louder.

"People knew the difference between right and wrong in those days," said Aziraphale dreamily.

"Well, yes. Think about it."

"Ah. Yes. Too much messin' about?"

"Yes."

Aziraphale held up the sword. There was a _whoomph_ as it suddenly flamed like a bar of magnesium.

"Once you've learned how to do it, you never forget," he said.

He smiled at Crowley.

"I'd just like to say," He began.

"That if we don't get out of this, that . . . I'll have known, deep down inside, that there was a spark of goodness in you."

"That's right," said Crowley bitterly. "Make my day."

 

But Aziraphale could make out the way one side of Crowley’s mouth twitched upwards in a soft smile that he tried his damnedest to hide from the angel.

Aziraphale held out his hand.

"Nice knowing you," he said.

 

Crowley took it.

"Here's to the next time," he said. "And . . . Aziraphale?"

"Yes?"

"Just remember I'll have known that, deep down inside, you were just enough of a bastard to be worth liking."

Aziraphale chuckled.

“Indeed, my dear. Indeed.”

 

There was a scuffing noise, and they were pushed aside by the small but dynamic shape of Shadwell, waving the Thundergun purposefully.

"I wouldna' trust you two Southern nancy boys to kill a lame rat in a barrel," he said.

"Who're we fightin' noo?"

"The Devil," said Aziraphale, simply. As if it were the most normal thing to say in the world. To fight Satan himself.

 

Shadwell nodded, as if this hadn't come as a surprise, threw the gun down, and took off his hat to expose a forehead known and feared wherever street-fighting men were gathered together.

"Ah reckoned so," he said. "In that case, I'm gonna use mah _haid."_

 

Newt and Anathema watched the three of them walk unsteadily away from the jeep. With Shadwell in the middle, they looked like a stylized V.

"What on earth are they going to do?" said Newt. "And what's happening-what's _happening to_ them?"

 

The coats of Aziraphale and Crowley split along the seams. If you were going to go, you might as well go in your own true form. Feathers unfolded towards the sky.

One black pair and one white pair.

 

The trio walked in unison, towards where the rumbling and growling was originating from on the ground, a few meters away from where they left the others. They looked like the representation of Heaven, Hell and Earth. And really, they were.

Aziraphale walked on the right, signifying Heaven, an angel.

Crowley walked on the left, signifying Hell, a demon.

Shadwell walked in the middle of the two beings, signifying Earth, neutral, neither good nor bad, rather a bit of both; a human.

 

Crowley and Aziraphale advanced a bit more until they formed a V shape with Shadwell behind them. Crowley looked straight ahead at the bubbling mass of volcanic lava slowly streaming out of the ground before turning his head to stare at the angel who walked the same pace as he. Aziraphale’s features were serious, no longer innocent and angelic; this was the face of someone who fought wars, someone who knew how to wield the flaming sword he held in his hand, he was no longer Mr. A. Fell, bookshop keeper and owner, he was now Aziraphale, a Principality of Heaven. Crowley felt his resolve to not feel anything break, his chest gripped painfully, a feeling he understood to be dread. Not just for himself, but for the angel beside him and the human behind them.

 

“Angel. . .” He called out, eyes prickling with tears at the side, and he did his best to hold them from spilling.

 

Aziraphale turned his head toward Crowley, his hard serious expression softening in an instant. Crowley choked as he felt his throat constrict and he realized that no matter where they are, no matter what will happen, Aziraphale would never look at him with any expression aside from kindness and understanding. That despite all their bickering and glaring and pointed staring, Aziraphale’s eyes remained the same; kind and understanding. He felt a stray tear fall from the corner of his left eye. The angel’s eyes widened in surprise before turning soft once more.

 

“My dear. . .” He began, unable to say anything in the face of Crowley tearing up beside him.

“I just want you to know. . .” Crowley swallowed.

“That if I were to lose everything. . . I would gladly lose it with you by my side.”

 

Aziraphale felt the tears erupt from his own eyes as he swallowed down a whimper from his throat.

“My dear. . . Crowley. . . Love. . .”

 

Soft light blue eyes met golden snake-like ones.

The angel lifted up his hand and the demon moved closer to take it, their fingers intertwined as they walked hand in hand, their wide majestic wings – one black pair and one white pair – spreading wide into the air as they faced the Adversary head on.

 

“I’d gladly lose everything with you by my side.” Aziraphale murmured softly before both of them took flight never allowing their entwined fingers to separate.

 

 _I'm an angel with a shotgun,_  
 _Fighting 'til the war's won,_  
 _I don't care if heaven won't take me back._  
 _I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe._  
 _Don't you know you're everything I have?_  
 _And I wanna live, not just survive tonight._  


_They say before you start a war,_   
_You better know what you're fighting for._   
_Well, baby, you are all that I adore._   
_If love is what you need, a soldier I will be._


End file.
